


take a chance (on me and you)

by jdphoenix



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Post-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 18:22:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6968809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We are not getting married. I just thought I should let you know in person.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	take a chance (on me and you)

Grant stumbles inside and plants his feet under him as soon as he’s able. Behind him, the door slams shut and he lets the echo of it peter out while he tries to make sense of what he’s hearing. Only one person, breathing heavily. Definitely Simm- _Jemma_. She doesn’t sound happy, hence his being dragged over here.

“You wanted to talk to me?” he asks, trying for a friendly grin.

“Yes,” she says and heavy fabric swishes against the carpet. “I thought I should tell you in person that- What are you wearing?”

Since the tux is pretty standard, he figures she means the blindfold Natasha forced on him before shoving him in here. Even with her on the other side of the door (probably still there standing guard, if he had to guess), he’s not about to take it off and give her the excuse to hit him.

He shrugs one shoulder. “It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”

She makes this little noise, the same one she always makes when magic is brought up, and he can’t help a grin.

“Well, take it off. Silly superstition aside, it doesn’t matter much now because we are not getting married. I just thought I should let you know in person.”

Grant holds very, very still. He knew she was getting cold feet - that’s been obvious for the past week - but he didn’t think whatever he was being brought in for was _this_ bad. She’s moving around, fussing with what he imagines to be beauty supplies. He takes a step to the side and there’s no change in what he’s hearing, so she’s probably facing away from him then. Good.

It takes four steps - careful, probing steps, because he’s not getting married with a black eye he got on a chair arm - to reach her and then he’s got his hands on fine lace and is pulling her to him. Her breath catches and he feels her whole body tense up.

“There are over a hundred people outside,” he reminds her softly, “all dolled up and waiting to watch us get shackled. This was the _plan_. We’ve been working on it for weeks. You’ve got all the preparation you need.” They’ve always talked about it like a mission, another undercover gig just like the train in Italy or her time in HYDRA. She’s had plenty of time to prepare for the role, so what’s the problem?

“This has nothing to do with the lying,” she says. She’s still stiff, still cold as ice. He tucks his chin over her shoulder, hoping to infuse some warmth back into her that way.

“Then what?” he asks. “Is Stark paying you off so he can win his bet with Coulson?” The bastard has been saying from the beginning that a genius like Jemma would never go through with marrying some Neanderthal like Grant, even to keep her residency in the United States. When he threw in Grant’s former HYDRA ties as another reason, Coulson got so pissed he bet him Lola that they’d go through with it.

Grant means the reminder of the bet to be a joke but he feels her jaw tighten.

“What is it?” He gentles his tone and slides his arms around her waist, hoping to coax an honest answer out of her. He’s had plenty of opportunity the last few months to learn just how to get her to relax, how far he can push the physical contact before she stiffens up again. The hug should work, same as it did when they took their engagement photos, but to his surprise she whirls away.

“No,” she says and he hears her stumble over something, a chair or a table end, before stopping. “ _No_.”

The church air feels cold without her to hold onto. Grant fists his hands. “Is there someone else?” he asks and wonders why his voice is suddenly hoarse. It’s not like he’s got any real claim to her. This is a marriage of convenience. The government’s trying to punish former SHIELD agent foreign nationals by kicking out anyone who was in the country on a work visa when everything fell apart. The best way around that is marriage to a citizen and the best citizen possible is one whose family ties will make any paper pushing bureaucrat think twice before taking them on.

So it’s not like he expected her to _love_ him or anything. They’re just friends and teammates and he’s protecting her the way he always has. (Except for those three weeks he betrayed her and everyone else, but he’s not thinking about that.)

“Is it Trip?” he asks, forcing his tone back to gently teasing. “Or Fitz?” He was pretty sure they’d settled on just friends but he could always be wrong; the team’s not exactly living on top of each other these days.

She laughs humorlessly but doesn’t seem all that eager to answer other than that. He grits his teeth.

“Come on, Simmons, you gotta give me a real answer here.”

In the quiet of the room, he hears her dress slide against the carpet as she steps up to him. Her delicate hands settle on his chest and he reaches to grab them.

“No,” she says. “Just let me say this. It’s better if you can’t- just don’t, all right?”

“All right.” He reluctantly drops his hands to his sides and tries not to frown too obviously. It gets progressively harder the longer she takes to speak.

“I have had a terrible crush on you ever since you jumped out of the Bus after me. I thought that it would go away after you were revealed to be a traitor - and it might have done, if only you hadn’t later gone and betrayed HYDRA for us.”

“I’m sorry?” he offers uncertainly.

Her breath of laughter falls against his neck and he wonders, dumbly, how high the heels Pepper made her wear are. “I could marry Trip or Fitz out of convenience,” she says, her voice sad, “but I can’t marry you, Grant.”

She says something else about working for one of Stark’s offices in England (which is bullshit; England’s even harsher on former SHIELD agents than the US) and tries to move away, but he catches her waist before she can.

“Is it my turn?” he asks.

She doesn’t answer but he’s guessing she might nod.

“I knew,” he says firmly. “I knew you were attracted to me and I used that, fed your crush whenever I could because I wanted you on my side.”

He can’t feel her breath anymore.

“I _liked_ you. Not the way you liked me, but I genuinely enjoyed flirting with you - more than I liked a lot of the other things I had to do playing the team.” He swallows thickly. He can feel the smooth fabric through the lace and that makes him think of smooth skin underneath. “I never thought I’d get married. Ever. My family’s not the best-”

She makes a sound like a laugh; she’s had plenty of opportunity the last few months to learn just how true that is for herself.

“-and my job didn’t exactly leave room for significant others - not ones I wasn’t manipulating anyway. So I never gave it a whole lot of thought.” He tightens his hands on her waist. “But I think marrying my friend won’t be so bad.”

“It’s not a real marriage,” she says weakly.

No, it’s not and he can’t refute that. Slowly, he slides his hands around her waist, pulling her to him so he can rest his forehead against hers. He can just feel her skin over the edge of the blindfold and it warms him through.

“It’ll be what we make it. _Whatever_ we make it.”

She’s so tiny he can wrap his arms almost double around her. Almost. She _eeps_ a little when he goes too far and he uses that to pull her up for a kiss.

It’s not the first time they’ve kissed - there were two in the Bus days, one when he was pulling her out of HYDRA, and countless little pecks while they were faking this relationship - but it’s the first time they’ve kissed without anyone else around to see. He’s been dying to try it for a while.

He doesn’t let it go on long, but it’s still long enough to have her melting against him.

“I don’t want to lose you, Jemma,” he says. “I’m not promising you anything or trying to give you false hope, but I’d like some time to figure out if it _is_ false. So what d’you say? Will you marry me?”

Her hands find his chest again and she leans into him like she’s having trouble keeping her feet. Something brushes past his chin twice and then-

“Yes,” she says. She doesn’t sound too happy about it but he’ll have plenty of time to change her mind on that front once he’s got the ring on her finger.

“Good.” He leans in and his lips land against her forehead, a little off-center. “Because I’m not about to trust Stark’s security to protect you and I wasn’t looking forward to moving to England.” He backs up, following his path in until his heel brushes the door.

“Wait, what?” she demands.

“It’s nice to _visit_ ,” he amends quickly, “but I’d hate to live there. See you out there, I’ll be the one waiting up front.”

“That’s not what I-”

He spins out the door before she can finish and tears off the blindfold. Natasha’s leaning against the wall next to him.

“If she runs,” he says.

“I’ll stop her,” she promises.

Grant nods and straightens his jacket. It’s time to get this show on the road.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Over on tumblr, an anon prompted a biospec wedding proposal. I doubt this is what they expected but I hope they're still happy.


End file.
